


Energon and Iron

by PinetreeVillain



Series: Humanformers [3]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: And most things in general, Angst, But mostly told along the Prime storyline if you will, Children, Don't ask me what the hell continuity this is supposed to take place, M/M, Megatron is Bad at Feelings, Not hella abusive, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Raising children, Sparklings, Starscream is Bad at Feelings but is More of Bitch About It, These guys have no chill, This is continuity of sorts to a story a lot of people liked, Transformer Sparklings, but not healthy either, children to adults, it's a mess of different stories, mentions of mpreg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-03-12 10:06:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13545114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinetreeVillain/pseuds/PinetreeVillain
Summary: A sort of not-sequel to Blood and Feathers.This is not humanformers, but still follows the basic series of events that occurred in Feathers and Blood. In addition, you do not have to read Blood and Feathers to enjoy this fic.In this sequel, sparklings are conceived, and two mechs that hate each other must care for them."The two tiny creatures that Starscream could viably (and to an extent) proudly admit to creating were nothing short of handsome and intimidating all at once... The sparklings have pulled something docile out of both of them."





	Energon and Iron

**Author's Note:**

> This is not humanformers anymore. It's still enjoyable though. 
> 
> So there was a lot of demand for an alternative ending, and i did have one, so in order to make myself write it, i had to make everyone robots again. I hope that doesn't drive anyone away hhhh
> 
> Lemme know if there are any spelling errors or typos, this is after all unbetaed.

The two tiny creatures that Starscream could viably (and to an extent) proudly admit to creating were nothing short of handsome and intimidating all at once. 

Two femmes, each barely as large as his servo, palm and claws included. They were subtly identical, different at first glance but the longer you stare at them the more they looked the same. They sported wings, one set angled up, the other down. Their tiny servos were armed with wicked claws, a trait collected from both creators no doubt. They had gangly limbs and broad chests, angular protoforms that implied strong jawlines and sturdier shoulders. That was where the similarities ended. 

He looked at them every waking day now. They were his alarm clock and permission to sleep, possibly the most exhausting task of his current natural life secondary to his primary duty of “second in command”. 

The first born sparkling was just short of the bane of his Primus forsaken existence with the noisiest vocalizer to ever have been fabricated for such a tiny frame. Shrill angry cries should she be denied food or attention or something to dig he vicious little talons into with a grip like death; unyielding and sharply painful, a miniature agony. She was loud and intrusive, determined to let everyone know of her existence if she wasn’t sure they didn’t already. Not two days into her outside existence she discovered how to exclaim loudly with the little box in her intake valve and never discovered how to stop. 

He saw much of her sire in her and saw fit to name her something obnoxious and settled for (with persuasion from Knockout) Shardstorm, for the cutting shriek she made in his audials every morning and the raining Pit she’d bring if he didn’t respond immediately. 

Her thin plating was a washed out gray, matte and smooth. Her helm, though underdeveloped, had sharp jagged curves, a crest that encircled her head like a regal crown. Her optics where a bright cheerful borderline pink color that got lighter the louder she screamed. She had thick brow ridges that crashed down darkly against her dark faceplate when displeased (uncanny resemblance), and equally as thick stripes of purple paint skirting along her chest and wings. 

She was every bit like her sire, a fact that was hard to ignore when she wanted something, but made it just as pleasing to watch her cry and fuss when she didn’t get what she wanted (and no shortage of smugness that she had no power to enforce her will). 

(Not that his carrier protocols would ever let him take it too far)

However, the dissimilarities were inherently obvious in that she found even the slightest thing amusing and broke out into hysterical fits of childish laughter completely unwarranted. 

Her sister was so very much her opposite that it was with her that Starscream was the most wary. 

The day that they were conceived was one so utterly vivid that he had a hard time figuring out just how he felt about it. They were removed from his frame as they ought to, but the second sparkling was dead silent even after Knockout severed her fuel lines from his system. 

She was a quiet thing that sometimes seemed to be worth more dead. 

She was reported dead for a good 5 minutes before a scan reported that she was not dead, just quiet and deep in stasis. 

Knockout informed that it was common for seekers to produce more than one sparkling, but given that the sire of said sparklings was not, in fact, biologically a seeker of any kind, Starscream’s frame was ill suited to providing both of the sparklings with adequate sustenance (incredibly distressing, even after Starscream depleted so much of their energon reserves just to keep himself _awake_ for them). They demanded more energon as grounder frames would, something Starscream’s flight frame wasn’t equipped to provide, so his systems made the unconscious decision to sustain the larger, healthier sparkling. 

In short, she was under heavy monitoring, malnourished and weak. Knockout said it was a marvel she even made it to birth. She was released to him after a week’s worth of tests.

In his arms, she opened her sharp piercing optics, and fixated on him so intensely he was sure she was trying to kill him with her stare alone. She was unnerving in the worst sense, something Starscream tried to appease by finding similarities in her that she shared with Megatron, at least that way he’d be used to it. But the harder he tried the less there was of Megatron, and more of _himself_ (as embarrassing as that is to admit, there truly is nothing more intimidating than your own self). 

For days he made an effort to get her to make a noise, pull a face, or even fuss or fidget. Her grew desperate after a week and even went as far as pinching her wing. Her incorrigible sister, with her shrieking and scratching, failed to get a rise out of her and eventually even grew bored of her. 

This was an endless cycle of attempt after attempt that Starscream grew so frustrated and wrought with carrier protocol-induced stress that he worked himself up into a tantrum and lost his grip on his EM field (he did not weep, he had composure and dignity, he was _not crying_ ). His fit was stalled when the mute sparkling chuffed, tiny face plate contorted for the first time, harsh upset lines cracking her dark faceplate and she let out such a mournful spark wrenching wail, weeping along with him, that even _Megatron_ felt it (he’d called rather rudely and demanded to know what was happening, as if his own offspring had no business triggering his own protocols on the other end of the ship _cry me a river you aft_ ). 

To Starscream horror, she was incredibly sensitive to electromagnetic pulses and waves (her senses were so fine tuned Starscream was briefly concerned some of Soundwave got in there somehow). This meant she could acutely feel one’s EM field as if it were her very own, even detect them through walls and obstructions. Some incredibly strange feature, neither Megatron nor Starscream had a clue where in the world she could have possibly gotten it from. Turned out, after Knockout was _once again_ put to the task of running scans on her, that the EM sensitivity was a result of Megatron’s old miner protocols mixing with flight frame sensors. It explained her ability to know someone was coming even before they entered the hall outside of their quarters. 

(Miner protocols were very similarly to flight frame capabilities, but instead of being able to detect changes in the air, they could detect vibrations in their environment, useful for picking up on potential cave ins in the treacherous underground tunnels of the mining colonies)

(The sensors all flight-capable frames are equipped with can detect movement and changes in air and wind currents and, to an extent, EM fields)

Megatron was, surprisingly, the one to suggest a name. It was incredibly backhanded, and because he knew it would piss him off, Starscream accepted the name with all the grace of the snake he is so often compared. Anxillary, a snide and graceless fusion of the words “auxiliary” and “ancillary”. Something that provides additional support to simple meaningless tasks. To Starscream, it sounded like “anxiety”. He refused to change it against better judgment. After all, life’s not fair. 

He called her Xill or Xillary when he was feeling fond. 

She was a dark cool gray, something not-quite black, and a white face. In the poor lighting of the early morning, she was nothing but a dark silhouette with glowing red optics that seemed to take in the world endlessly. With her helm’s sloping ridges that curled up at the sides and downward slanted wings, she looked like one of earth’s owls. 

She was smaller than her sister in width alone, slight and narrow. 

And they were still both so small and fragile. They were light and weak with malleable frames and exposed protoform. He _had_ to mother over them every minute, it was so time consuming and he grew weary of having them leech every one of his thoughts to themselves. They were his offspring, the first sparklings conceived since the war began. It was by total accident, how was he supposed to know that consuming raw energon would activate his gestation systems? How the Pit was he supposed to know that _jabbing a shard of dark energon into his spark chamber that had previously been in his esteemed leader’s would spawn sparklings_? If he had known, he wouldn’t have done it. He wouldn’t have started the chain of long unfortunate events that are currently wreaking havoc on him. 

But he did, and that is why the wall was knocked out between his and Megatron’s quarters to allow for more living space because sky call was _monstrous_ when he had to stay cooped up in a room for longer than he ever has in his entire life. That’s why Megatron has been remarkably more reserved than he has in vorns. Why Starscream wasn’t being punished for shirking his duties, for lazing about and depleting energon stores. 

Everything had changed by some degree whether it be blazingly obvious like that obliteration of an entire wall, or the change of attitude of everyone on board, so subtle no one notices until attention is called to it. And no one calls attention to it. Sometimes Starscream doesn’t even acknowledge this whole other dimension he’s fallen into, like he’s been here the entire time. Occasionally he’ll notice it; in the middle of the night cycle sitting on the berth with sparklings tucked away into stasis, alone with his thoughts; in the way Megatron doesn’t raise his voice like he typically would when the sparklings are in the same room. 

The sparklings have pulled something docile out of both of them. The incapability to be hostile whenever they so much as catch each other’s eye like they used to, the unwillingness to dig into each other’s plating to prod at every wire as painfully as they could, to piss the other off and start a fight just to feel better about it afterwards. 

Neither of them have discussed a single thing, half of what has happened has occurred through some freakish mutual understanding and the plain simple fact that they know each other far more than they care to accept. 

Although Starscream might be accepting it now, with no shortage of bitterness and relish.

No matter how many times they tried to kill each other, hated the other more than anything, they could not remove something so familiar and _common_ without uprooting the foundation they’ve constructed themselves on. 

They’ve stopped tearing into each other because they made something by accident and try as they might to deny it, refuse to tear their creations up in the middle of it. 

There’s no saying how long the undiscussed truce will last, after all, sparklings did not stay small and fragile forever. These sparklings would grow, learning quickly of the world they’ve been born into. Many sparklings were born as the war began, orphaned or killed in a planet’s civil war. To eliminate risk factor and thrusting conceiving bots into battle, manufacturing districts began using the new modern method of producing developed bots that could be raised quickly with new technology, and then pressured into the army. 

It was efficient. 

Naturally born sparklings will take longer to develop. Fortunately, they will not be small for long, but they will be black holes where fuel and energy is concerned. 

In the meantime.

Starscream has new obligations to be tending to. 

And they are remarkably more preferable than monitor duty.

**Author's Note:**

> If you'd like to follow me and my activity, I am most active on my instagram:  
> @pinetrees_  
> https://www.instagram.com/pinetrees_/?hl=en
> 
> My deviantArt:  
> CancerousVirgo


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